Current weather

Battle scars and baseball: Book's reluctant subject opens up

South Carolina native Lou Brissie played alongside and against some of the greatest figures of what many consider to be professional baseball's "Golden Age."

He counted Bob Feller, Early Wynn and Larry Doby as teammates, and Joe DiMaggio and Ted Williams as adversaries. But the left-handed Brissie, whose six-year career included stints with the old Philadelphia Athletics (now known as the Oakland A's) and Cleveland Indians, had something no other Major League player possessed.

A veteran of World War II and a pitcher by trade, Brissie had 21 mortar fragments embedded in his left leg, the result of a grievous war wound suffered in the mountains of Northern Italy in December 1944.

Despite his injury, the Purple Heart and Bronze Star winner compiled an impressive big league record and was named to the 1949 American League All-Star Team. The 85-year-old Brissie's story, with all its highs and lows, has been winningly recounted by Pulitzer Prize-winning sports reporter and columnist Ira Berkow in "The Corporal was a Pitcher: The Courage of Lou Brissie," which was published earlier this year.

"Ira had talked to me over a period of several years," says Brissie from his home in North Aiken, S.C. "He wrote an article about me for The New York Times and had talked with me about guys I'd played with and against. We got along quite well.

"He called one day and said he felt I should tell the story. I had always avoided it, but my family had also talked to me about it. I liked Ira and his writing, and I figured you can't do any better than having a Pulitzer Prize winner write your story. I was pleased and honored he would consider doing it."

Brissie will visit Athens at 1 p.m. Saturday to autograph copies of "The Corporal was a Pitcher" at Borders on Alps Road. Brissie admits that the promotional work he's been doing on the book has prevented him from actually reading it.

"I read a lot of the preliminaries, but I haven't sat down to read the finished product," says Brissie, who recently took part in a well-attended signing with Berkow in Philadelphia. "We've had quite a few book signings, and I haven't had the opportunity. But I've received feedback from family and friends who have read it, and I've been pleased with their comments."

His lower leg shattered in more than two dozen places, Brissie pitched wearing a bulky steel brace (which accounts for an amusing story in the book about facing off against Williams, whom many consider the greatest hitter in the history of baseball) and enjoyed an notable career, going 44-48 with a 4.07 ERA and 436 strikeouts.

He posted a 14-10 record in 1948 and a 16-11 mark in 1949, pitching for Philadelphia and its Hall of Fame owner/manager Connie Mack. Brissie was named to the 1949 All-Star team, but reveals that his biggest thrill in baseball was working for Mack.

"My career highlight was just being there and playing for Mr. Mack," he says. "A lot of people would have said, 'Forget it, find something else' after what happened to me, but Mr. Mack said, 'Whenever you're ready, you'll get the opportunity to see if you can do it.' And Mr. Mack kept his word. Playing for (Mack) was so important and it was also exciting to play against guys like Williams and DiMaggio and players I'd grown up reading about."

Baseball and film fans might recall a similar tale set to celluloid - the 1949 drama "The Stratton Story," starring Jimmy Stewart. The basic differences between Monty Stratton and Brissie are that Stratton's right leg was amputated after a 1938 hunting accident, and he never pitched in the Major Leagues again, although he competed in the minor leagues for more than a decade with a wooden leg.

The other difference, of course, is that a film was made about Stratton but not about Brissie. But that could change.

"A number of years ago, I was approached (about a film), but I really wasn't interested," he says. "And as I understand it, there are now inquiries, but I'm not in the middle of any of that. It's one of those things you might say 'Wow' about, but then you don't think about it anymore."